Here's to Us
by TheChicaChic
Summary: Slight AU one shot set after 9.1. Rated T for slight language. It's been a week. Since they buried Ros. Since he proposed. Since she turned him down.


_**AN: A quick one shot set after 9.1 that does not tie into any of my other stories. Updates to 'I'm Not an Angel' and '12 Months' coming.**_

_**Much thanks to NatesDate for reading through this, finding and fixing the spelling mistakes, and steering in the right direction.**_

_**Also a thanks to Halestorm for their song 'Here's to Us' that's not only the title but the lyrics throughout.**_

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Slowly she slips the headphones from her ears and stands.

Fingers brushing the keyboard, she locks it; her eyes slowly wandering around the Grid, taking in the light glowing behind the half closed blinds, and notes they're the only two left.

Typical.

Words from the recording still fresh in her mind, she gathers her courage and crosses to the red room. It's been a week.

Since they buried Ros.

Since he proposed.

Since she turned him down.

And said they could not be more than they already were.

The rocky ground they had been standing on since her return crumbling. The walls he worked so hard to try and protect himself with reemerging even thicker than before.

He was closed off from her completely, his mournful gaze intermixed with hurt and anger when it happened upon her; their only interaction about work.

Even nights like this, when they remained the only two in their realm, he locked her out. The blinds that used to be wide now almost closed, the door to his inner sanctuary firmly shut.

It left her filled with regret.

Tentatively, she stops outside his private space, her hand pausing on the handle as she wonders if she is still allowed the privilege of walking in when the mood strikes. "_You said you were happy with the status quo, why change anything now?" _Too true a thought has her preparing to slide the door open. "_But he's not._ " The voice that quips back has her pausing, unsure what to do.

The decision is removed when the door is suddenly yanked from her hand and she finds herself meeting weary hazel eyes.

"What is it?" He asks, eyes heavy as he turns back to his desk, his voice laced with resignation.

It's as his back is to her that she takes in the tumbler of amber liquid held loosely from his left hand; the rumpled lines creasing his tailored jacket; that she feels the strings of her heart pull.

"We could just go home."

_We could just go home right now. Or maybe we could stick around; for just one more drink. Oh yeah. Get another bottle out. Let's shoot the shit, sit back down. For just one more drink. Oh yeah._

He stops mid step, the fingers of his hand tightening around glass, shoulders tensing as he takes in her words.

"Or have one more drink." she rushes out, hands twisting together in front of her.

The tension loosens; slightly but it loosens; and he finishes the walk to his desk. Setting down the crystal, he reaches to the credenza, pulling another tumbler free. Turning to his desk, he reaches for the bottle. It's now that she can see he has removed his tie and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers to hang loose.

It's the most relaxed she has ever seen him.

Except for that night long ago in a hall with no one and yet watched by many.

Legs moving, she crosses to stand across the expansive wood, her eyes on his hands as he pours a finger of whisky into the glass. They're steady and strong; not betraying the tension and confliction of other emotions his eyes have shown her; as he pushes the glass towards her. Lifting it, she raises it to him briefly before closing her eyes and downing it.

_Here's to us. Here's to love. All the times that we've fucked up. Here's to you. Fill the glass. Cuz the last few days have kicked my ass. Oh let's give 'em hell. Wish everybody well. Here's to us. Here's to us._

Shuddering, she feels the liquid fire moving through her chest coming to rest in her gut. Eyes watering, she opens them and holds the glass out to him. Feeling his gaze burning her face, she lifts her eyes to his, sees the emotion and the question behind them, before he bottles them again.

And realizes how wrong she had been.

Breathing deeply, she watches as he uncorks the decanter and pours another finger width.

This single existence they share in a building of ice and lies is not all she wants for them; not all she had dreamed of. But fear and guilt; of missed chances and lost lives; have held her down for too long.

He's corking the malt again when the realization dawns for her that this is the moment.

It's now or never for them.

_We stuck it out this far together. Put our dreams through the shredder. Let's toast, cuz things got better. And everything could change like that. And all these years go by so fast, but nothing lasts forever._

And she knows he understands; hears his breath catch at the open honesty she is showing him; sees the physical change overtake him as hope once again flares in his eyes.

_Here's to all that we kissed, and to all that we missed, to the biggest mistakes that we just wouldn't trade. To us breakin' up, without us breakin down. To whatever's comin' out way._

"Ask me again." she says softly, eyes never leaving his. "Harry, ask again."

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_**AN: Thanks for reading - if you've a moment, please leave a review. They're my drug of choice.**_


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